The Odd Couple
by entirelysomeoneelse
Summary: Quirrell and Voldemort recieve a mysterious offer of living acommodations from a pair of complete strangers. An A Very Potter Musical fanfic, set just after the musical.


**The Odd Couple: Chapter One**

**Chapter One: Shopping and Sunglasses**

"But Voldemort, where are we going to go?" Quirrell persisted as they moved along the grocery aisle.

"Technicalities, Quirrell!" Voldemort sighed. "I don't have all the answers." He pushed the cart on toward a display of teas. Quirrell paused, slightly hurt by the snappish tone of the other man's voice. He didn't see how this could work out. They had nowhere to live. They'd been moving from motel to motel for the past three nights since Quirrell had been released from Azkaban, afraid of being recognized as a former convict and the supposedly dead Dark Lord. Just to go out into the shops, they'd had to don their disguises. "Now, what about strawberry?" Voldemort suggested, peering closely at the display through his large sunglasses, all traces of annoyance gone.

Quirrell sighed and joined him. "I don't really care." Voldemort glanced at him, shrugged, and tossed several of the pink boxes into the cart.

When they approached the checkout, Quirrell opened his mouth to address the subject again. "You know –"

Voldemort threw his hands into the air and whirled around, his false nose slipping slightly. "Quirrell, I don't know what we're going to do about living arrangements. We could build a hut in the jungle or camp on a rock in the ocean or sleep in a box in an alleyway. I don't care!"

"Are you saying that you don't care where we live as long as we're together?" Quirrell asked, his romantic heart beating hopefully.

Voldemort opened his mouth and shrugged. "I—Yeah, sure," he nodded, impatience creeping into his voice. "It'll work out. Will you stop bringing it up?" Quirrell pulled away, slightly hurt.

The cashier and the two men ahead of them turned. Quirrell plastered a polite smile onto his face, his cheeks faintly pink.

"We couldn't help but overhear…" One of the men began, his eyes flickering up and down Quirrell and Voldemort, taking them in. He had a mustache similar to Quirrell's, though Quirrell couldn't see any glue holding it on. "But it sounds as if you two need lodging." He glanced at his companion, a man with a large beard and glasses.

Voldemort glared at them both. "Yes," he all but snarled. "Well deducted." He turned his back on the two and bent to organize their cart.

"We're serious," the second man said. "We could help you out."

"It's very kind of you to offer," Quirrell told them, shooting an angry look at Voldemort for loosing his temper, "but we couldn't."

"Oh, c'mon," the first man encouraged. "Ignore the fact that we're complete strangers who could be mass murderers or escapees or something. You need somewhere to stay. We've got extra space." He accepted his receipt from the girl behind the counter, who was watching the conversation with mild interest.

Quirrell considered, glancing at Voldemort. Voldemort didn't look back, but began to unload the items from their cart. "Thank you very much, but we're fine," Voldemort told the men curtly, absorbed in stacking the groceries.

"I don't see why you're turning this opportunity down. I think it would work out well for all of the," the second man commented, looking at Quirrell's hand on Voldemort's tense shoulder.

"WILL YOU PLEASE GO AWAY?" Voldemort shouted, turning on the two men, whipping his wand out of his pocked as he let the copies of _Seventeen_, _Tiger Beat_, and _Teen Vogue_ fall from his hand. Neither of the men looked particularly surprised, but simply grinned at each other, their hands raised in surrender. The cashier made a confused squeak. Voldemort rounded on her, still brandishing his wand. While she couldn't make out why a grown man was waving a stick around, she could tell that the gesture was threatening. Screaming, she ran from the shop.

"God dammit," Voldemort whined, his hand falling as he leaned his hands into the counter, letting his head drop. "How are we supposed to check out now?" he asked, turning to Quirrell.

Quirrell stepped forward, determined to take charge of the situation. "…Are the two of you wizards?" He asked in a low voice, glancing around to see if any other customers were watching (though it would be a little late now).

"Hell yeah!" The first man grinned, dropping his hands and turning to high-five the second man.

"Did you know we were?" Quirrell's eyes widened slightly. "I mean before…" He waved a hand at his companion.

"Well, yeah. It was pretty obvious," the second man nodded.

"How?" Voldemort snapped, raising his head.

"Man, you've had your wand sticking out of your pocket this entire time. It's like eighteen inches long," the second man explained, shaking his head in amusement.

"So, are you going to come with us or not?" The first one asked. Quirrell and Voldemort exchanged looks for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, okay," Quirrell told them.

"Great," the man said. "Now, let's get these groceries packed up." The two began to put Quirrell and Voldemort's things into bags.

Voldemort turned around as Quirrell began to help and stared at him. "Without paying? That's so evil!" Quirrell gave him a look, then pulled a few bills from his pocket and dropped them on the counter. Minutes later, they left the nearly empty shop, carrying the bags. "Where to now?" Voldemort asked.

"Grab onto us and we'll apparate there." Quirrell and Voldemort did so. "Disapparate!" The two strangers cried.

They appeared in a dismal looking square. "Where are we. Quirrell asked, staring up at the gray buildings.

"Grimauld Place, but that isn't important right now," the first man told him. "You just need to concentrate on the number 12 for a moment. That's the secret code to get into this place."

Voldemort threw him a look. "What the eff are you on about?" he demanded. Quirrell obediently closed his eyes and meditated, and a building began to appear in front of them.

"Whoa," Quirrell gaped. "Magic!"

"Well, in we go!" The second man said cheerfully, ushering them towards the black door with the snake doorknocker.


End file.
